


Family Is

by zenelly



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: HxH Secret Santa 2018, M/M, it's okay so is leorio, this is full humor, this is mostly leorio-centric, watermelon incident based on real life experiences, zepile is that disaster bi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 09:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenelly/pseuds/zenelly
Summary: Leorio knows his day is going down a very interesting rabbit hole long before he gets a phone call from Gon asking where his knives are.





	Family Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [patxaran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patxaran/gifts).



> Merry Christmas Pacha! I was really pleased to get you for the Gift Exchange this year. You had asked for something humorous, and you like rarepairs and Leorio, so I thought this would do nicely! I hope you enjoy it, and happy holidays!

Leorio knows his day is going down a very interesting rabbit hole long before he gets a phone call from Gon asking where his knives are. Between the kid who came in concussed because he tried to Parkour across some trucks and ended up stuck in someone’s wrought iron fence and a girl who might have drank cleaning fluid while mistaking it for grape juice, the already fraught atmosphere in the ER is tenser than usual. Gon, already a rogue element on the best of days, is almost certainly up to no good.

"Too high up for you to reach," he retorts immediately, shunting his phone onto his shoulder so he can more efficiently scarf down his cup noodles in his five minute break before he inevitably gets called back on shift. The background noise of the hospital is a low chaotic hum and he needs these few minutes to himself.

Gon huffs. "There's no reason to be so dramatic, Leorio."

“There’s every reason. Don’t get my knives. I don’t need you being the next person in the emergency room.”

There’s a noise that Leorio chooses to interpret as agreement. “I know how to use a knife without ending up in the ER, you know.”

“No. You know who does? Zepile. Zepile can use knives without hurting himself. You? You vaulted over the couch one time, broke my ceiling fan _and_ my TV, and sprained your ankle doing it. I can’t trust you to do anything.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t go to the ER,” Gon says, and Leorio makes sure to slurp _extra_ loud on his noodles to show his fury over that because Gon _should_ have to make sure he hadn’t broken anything.

Ah damn, he’s almost done with his lunch. “Don’t get into my knives, especially not if Zepile isn't home,” Leorio orders. “I’ll be there in a few hours.”

“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll figure something else out.”

Gon hangs up before Leorio can sputter out another objection and he sulkily slurps up the last of his broth before tossing the cup away. Damn brat. Well, Leorio will just shoot Killua a text and that will take care of most of the damage before it happens. Killua objects just as much to Gon hurting himself as Leorio does.

He takes a breath, and-

“Paladiknight?” Cheadle’s gaze sweeps the break room just long enough to spot Leorio before she nods, brisk. “I need you down in surgery.”

At least he got to finish his lunch this time. “On it, Director. What’ve we got?”

Her mouth thins, but Leorio swears he catches an amused glimmer in her eyes. “Now, don’t panic.”

 

* * *

 

There’s a low impressed whistle coming from the bed as Leorio pushes back the curtain, his mouth set in something halfway between a grimace and a regrettably fond smile. Propped up on the cushions, one arm in a cast, lays Zepile, mouth open. “ _You’re_ my doctor? Holy shit.”

“Zepile.” Leorio rubs his forehead. “How did you break your arm?”

“Had a difference in opinion with someone about impressionist art that ended up a little heated, obvs. Now, there’s no way you’re my doctor. You’re way too hot to be my doctor.”

Coming into the room, Leorio glances down at Zepile’s chart at the end of the bed. Broken arm, and- yep, they’ve got him on the good stuff. That explains the vague look in Zepile’s eyes, the way he keeps focusing and refocusing on Leorio, his head bobbing like a bird’s. “We’ve been married for two years, you doped up asshole.”

“Holy shit,” Zepile whispers, eyes wide. “I hit the fucking jackpot.”

“Wait hang on,” Leorio says, looking up. “I could have sworn I taught you how to handle yourself in a fight better than this. How the fuck did you break your _arm_ in an  _art fight_?”

Zepile winces. It’s the first self-aware expression he’s made all day through the haze of painkillers. “Now, that’s uncalled for, handsome. There was art all around us! What was I supposed to do, hip-check him into some priceless relics?”

“Yes, duh?”

"Your face is a priceless relic. Can I hip check my way onto that?"

 

* * *

 

Night is in full flush, air humid and fragrant with flowers, by the time Leorio leaves the hospital. It's a whole production, pouring Zepile into the car and getting them home while the painkillers wear off, taking Zepile from a gregarious humor to his slightly more subdued attitude, sheepish and uncomfortable with the cast. He regales Leorio with the story of him getting suplexed into a display table, which is where the arm comes from, and Leorio's torn between laughing and scolding and ends up with a mix of the two as he fumbles with his keys to the front door of their little one-story house.

And then he opens the door to Kurapika cutting open a watermelon with a katana. 

"Don't scream," Kurapika says heartlessly. "It’s the only thing I had to open this damn thing."

“I have knives! I have knives made for fruit! Why are you using a sword?” Leorio sputters.

Kurapika looks pointedly at the table, where the gory remains of the watermelon rest, and then up, up, at the top of Leorio’s very high cabinets, where a knife block rests, carefully hidden out of Gon’s reach and –now that Leorio thinks about it- Kurapika’s as well. Then, one eyebrow raised high, daring Leorio to make a comment, Kurapika brandishes the sword again, levering it to carve out another slice. “It’s the biggest knife I had.”

Leorio, wisely, keeps his mouth shut.

“God I love your friends, babe,” Zepile says, mushed against Leorio’s shoulder. “They’re so much fun.”

“They’re a mess,” Leorio corrects, navigating them to Zepile’s favorite armchair. “Messes who keep breaking into my house without calling me first-“

“-You gave us all house keys, Leorio-“

“-and who don’t ever pick up after themselves or do their own laundry-“

“Your machine is scary! It’s possessed!” Gon whines.

“-or cook anything even remotely healthy for themselves and keep using my _knives_ -“

Kurapika says nothing. Just locks eyes with Leorio and licks the blade of his katana clean.

Leorio points at him. “If you cut your tongue, you’re driving yourself to the emergency room.”

“Deal.”

“They’re your _family_ ,” Zepile drawls, extending his one hand in a greedy clutch at Leorio, who goes, exasperated, to press increasingly tender kisses to the curve of his forehead. “You love them.”

Snorting, Leorio hides his grin. “I guess they can stay.” There’s a nudge at his elbow, and he turns to see Kurapika offering a plate piled high with watermelon slices. Enough for him and Zepile both, and he smiles in thanks. “They’re mostly tolerable.”

Kurapika rolls his eyes and bites into his remaining watermelon slice, crunching straight through the rind because he’s a _monster_. Leorio gags. “Next time you need help hiding a body,” Kurapika says. “I’ll remember that “ _mostly”_ part.”

“If you never eat the rind of a watermelon again, you’ll get bumped up to very tolerable.”

Zepile howls with laughter, shaking too hard to get his own slice of watermelon even into his mouth, and Leorio leans hard against his husband’s side and feels so, so at home.


End file.
